


(sept. 2016 drabbles)

by natalunasans



Series: Smaller on the Outside [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who: Scream of the Shalka
Genre: Chronic Illness, Conversations, Douglas Adams, Dysfunctional Relationships, Fluff and Humor, Free Will, Gen, Hope, Introspection, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Nightmares, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rationalizations, Robot Feels, Telepathy, Time War Angst, and other terrible things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-14 21:46:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8029978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalunasans/pseuds/natalunasans
Summary: Having solved all the major mathematical, physical, chemical, biological, sociological, philosophical, etymological, meteorological and psychological problems of the Universe except his own, three times over, he was severely stuck for something to do, and had taken up composing short dolorous ditties of no tone, or indeed tune. The latest one was a lullaby. "Now the world has gone to bed," Marvin droned,"Darkness won't engulf my head,"I can see by infra-red,"How I hate the night."He paused to gather the artistic and emotional strength to tackle the next verse. "Now I lay me down to sleep,"Try to count electric sheep,"Sweet dream wishes you can keep,"How I hate the night."― Douglas Adams, Life, the Universe and Everything





	1. fragment (Simm!Master)

Pain hasn’t given him a conscience, any more than madness made him a villain.  Physical and mental conditions flavour his existence, but he’s always prided himself on making conscious choices: to kill or let live, to destroy or refrain from destruction… or create something new, for his own purposes.

His world has shrunk, his choices become limited... but he’s not turned good, only weary. He could choose to spend reduced energy making the Doctor miserable, and at first he does. Eventually he _tires_ of trolling the Doctor, _exhausts_ other options... (but never the puns!)

_Time to make this game interesting._


	2. smile less / talk more (S!M/10)

Somehow, the Master's become the quiet one; his manic villain persona (occasionally useful, but draining) saved for special occasions.

The Doctor talks to drown-out their inner monologue. Whenever they make telepathic contact he still hears them berating themself for what they’ve done... and left undone.

So he takes pity on them, gives them purpose, lets them _tryyyy to fix_ him, knowing that hope is poison. But who’s the poisoner and who’s the poisoned? No matter. His long game now: to live in the present, taking their warmth and care while he can get it.

And guard himself from hope… mostly.


	3. hashtag android problems (Shalkas, fluff)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having solved all the major mathematical, physical, chemical, biological, sociological, philosophical, etymological, meteorological and psychological problems of the Universe except his own, three times over, he was severely stuck for something to do, and had taken up composing short dolorous ditties of no tone, or indeed tune. The latest one was a lullaby. 
> 
> "Now the world has gone to bed," Marvin droned,  
> "Darkness won't engulf my head,  
> "I can see by infra-red,  
> "How I hate the night."
> 
> He paused to gather the artistic and emotional strength to tackle the next verse. 
> 
> "Now I lay me down to sleep,  
> "Try to count electric sheep,  
> "Sweet dream wishes you can keep,  
> "How I hate the night."
> 
> ― Douglas Adams, Life, the Universe and Everything

Whether by whimsy or intuition, the Doctor planted the verses of Marvin’s Lullaby in the Master's mind.

He never gets the reference, never knows why it’s in his memory… until he’s bored enough to read even the humour section of the TARDIS library. At a certain point in the Hitchhiker’s Guide series, he can’t decide whether to laugh or be angry.

Later, talking with the Doctor: “Life? Don't talk to me about life!  Brain the size of a planet and you've got me making tea…”

The Doctor starts, remembers; the Master raises an eyebrow… neither can keep straight-faced for long.


	4. "check out any time you like" (Shalkas)

The Doctor is not an alcoholic: that would be too simple, potentially even impossible. Although… leave it to them to stretch the limits of gallifreyan biology. 

They  _ are  _ addicted to many things: music, adventure, tea, helping strangers, competition… and, apparently, at least one person (it only made sense to take advantage).  Not unrelatedly, the Doctor is  _ definitely _ addicted to narrowly escaping death.

Afterwards, they sometimes get drunk, choose not to shrug off the chemical reaction, willing themself to feel less for a little while.  Sometimes it works. Sometimes, curled up to the Master, they even sleep… hope not to dream.


End file.
